Mäuschen (Mauschen)
by Becommissar
Summary: After the Worlds, a forgotten payment threatens Beca's life. Kommissar refuses to allow such a travesty to occur and as such intervenes in the name of good grace. Or is there more to it? Currently a oneshot but I am debating making this a multichapter fic.
1. Chapter 1

The tall German was tired. The rest of her group were still back at the club, the pounding bass of which she could still feel through the pavement. She had forgotten her purse and so had to walk back to the hotel where she was staying. The area of town was quiet, eerily so, but not for long. Somewhere in the distance she heard frantic yelling and begs for mercy. She quickened her pace, directing herself towards the sounds.

After a while the yelling almost entirely ceased; the woman increased her pace again towards where she last heard the sounds. Finally she could hear the assailant's voice. "Fucking bitch passed out!"

* * *

Spinning. Beca was spinning in her kitchen, dancing with her mum. "Faster, faster, faster!" young Beca shouted, twirling as her mother baked something delicious smelling. She dissolved into giggles and sat down harshly on the ground, looking up towards the brunette chef with adoration. Her mum put down the bowl and picked her up. "Beca, oh Beca, how I've missed you." She murmured.

"You have to go home, little one. You're not supposed to be here yet. People have done bad things to you. But you should be down there. You haven't finished living yet."

"Mama? Am I- dead?"

"Right now, you're dying. But you have to fight. Because my little Beca needs to complete her story."

"Mama, why did you have to go?"

"Because otherwise you wouldn't be who you are now." She gently kissed her daughter's head.

A painful jolt shot through Beca's chest and she cried. "Mama, no I don't want to go! Mama come back!" The image of her mother in the kitchen was rapidly fading to a dark and concerning blackness, seeping into her very skin. She felt herself being choked by it, it was in her ears and making everything fuzzy, the pressure massive.

* * *

"Well wake her up then." Maybe she was not wise to interrupt this, as there was clearly more than one attacker; but then she saw the girl lying on the floor. She was shaking, bloody and weak; and she seemed slightly familiar. The German set her jaw. She was not going to leave a girl in danger. If it put her in more danger that was a trivial issue.

"I got a smelling salt!" one of them exclaimed, plucking it from his pocket and cracking it below the girl's nose. She immediately opened her eyes, only for the onslaught to continue. "Please, Bumper… I paid up this month, I swear…" she murmured.

"Hey, the kid thinks she paid up!" the one called Bumper said. "Whaddya think, Benji?"

Benji shook his head. "Jesse?"

Jesse impassively shook his head. "You never should have left me, Beca. Think of what we had."

 _Beca_. Little mouse… that's why she looked so familiar. She crept slightly out of the shadows, greeting the attackers. "Ah… It is good to see the little mouse broken."

Bumper grinned sickly. "Shit, look, the German blonde turned up! I always knew you hated her!" Jesse chimed in. She could smell the alcohol on him from ten meters away, and closer up the smell of lingering marijuana hung around like a foul shroud. "Give her a wallop. Our treat!"

She walked slowly up to Beca, teeth bared in a cruel smile. "Please don't hurt me… No… this can't be…" Beca's voice broke in fear and she felt a twinge of guilt at the farce she had to play next. Grabbing her by her shirt collar she hauled the girl flush with the wall at her head height. She quickly flashed a friendly smile, whispering in her ear. "Listen. I'm here to help. It's Kommissar. When the next one takes a slug at your face, collapse and don't react to anything. Trust me. Now look scared, and get ready for a punch to your stomach."

She punched the DJ quite softly for her strength, but the girl still whimpered. "That was for your touchy-feely performance. You call yourself a leader? How many of the judges did you fuck for that 'win'?" She dropped her with a smirk. "I prefer to watch the beatdown. Mind if I do?" She elegantly sat down in a corner, watching intently. Sure enough the boys took a punch to her face and she crumpled with a tiny whimper. They took the smelling salt packs and cracked another, holding it under her nose. She didn't respond. "Shit, dude, she's not breathing."

"Floor it mate. We are rollin out!" The three of them unceremoniously fled the back alley, leaving the girls alone. When she was sure they had gone, the Kommissar ran over to Beca, quickly picking her up. "Beca? Listen to me. I am taking you back to my hotel room, okay. I'm a trained first aider. You're going to be okay."

* * *

The walk seemed agonisingly slow for the Kommissar. Every step she had to gently shift her arms as Beca winced in pain. "We're almost there, little mouse. You have the heart of a lion for one so small. You're being so, so brave." She gently opened her hotel room, placing the girl on her bed. Switching on the light, she quickly fetched the official DSM medical kit. "Hey, what's your name, tiny mouse?" she asked, stroking the hair out of her face.

"It's… Beca. I thought you... knew that," the DJ complained.

"I'm just checking, tiny mouse. Follow the light please."

Beca's eyes obediently tracked the light as they should. The Kommissar felt herself relax slightly. There was nothing here she couldn't treat. Perhaps her broken spirit might be harder to tackle.

Beca gestured to the bag and made a squeezing motion at her throat. "Asthma?" Beca nodded. The Kommissar passed her the emergency inhaler and she took a dose, handing it back gratefully. "Better now?" the Kommissar asked with a smile. Beca nodded again, a slight smile gracing her face also.

She sighed as she motioned for Beca to sit up. "I know you don't know me too well," she said quietly, applying a pair of gloves, "but I need you to take off your shirt so I can see what they've done to you. Is this okay with you?"

Beca nodded soundlessly, her face contorted into a grimace. She slowly, painfully, lifted the hem of her shirt before bursting into tears, shaking her head. She made a cutting motion with her hand and the Kommissar smiled slightly. "Not fond of this shirt? Okay, we can work with that."

She took a pair of scissors and repositioned the girl to lie down on her bed. She slipped the scissors up the middle of the shirt, all the way up to her neckline. As perverse as it sounded, the Kommissar felt a certain connection to the girl now, as she trimmed down the sleeves until she could pull the whole shirt off in one go without moving Beca.

It was only now that she dared to look at Beca's chest. "You look like my first attempt at blackberry ice cream," she whispered quietly, horrified at the sheer amount of bruising. "You are, how do you say it? Mottled. Nein, ist das die Wort das ich meine? Bah." She gently looked for any cuts and scrapes, placing plasters and a small amount of an antiseptic that burned every time she applied it.

"Okay, one more, but it's quite large. Ready?" Beca nodded, then grimaced; and at last the ordeal was over. Well, partly over. She still needed to ascertain Beca's state.

"I think you might have cracked a rib. That's fine, it will hurt like infernal, but what I'm going to do is put a roll of bandage around your chest to stop you moving too much. Can you sit up for me?"

"Hurt like hell is the phrase," she groaned as she sat up. Then there was a comfortable silence as the Kommissar wrapped her lower abdomen in a stretchy elasticated bandage. "Okay, this is where it will hurt, breathe out as far as you can without it hurting. Tell me when you need to breathe."

The wrapping continued in this manner until the Kommissar got to Beca's bra. "I'm afraid this has to go," the Kommissar said, flushing scarlet at what she had just asked for. Beca was clearly not too concerned as she took the scissors and snipped off the straps and bra and tossed them aside. "Keep going," she said through gritted teeth.

The Kommissar nodded, trying not to notice the proximity her hands were in to the younger girl's chest. She did the rest of her chest in double quick time, cracking an ice pack for her to hold over the affected area.

"Hey, uh, Kommissar…"

"Ja?" She was focused on bandaging Beca's sprained ankle.

"What's your real name? It can't be Kommissar, right?"

"You are correct, _Mäuschen_. Is this too tight? No? Good. My real name is Mina."

"Mina? It seems so… unlike your stage persona. It's homely. I like it."

"I am glad, feisty maus. I was given the name for a reason. You're staying here tonight. You can't sing now with a broken rib. As DSM lost, I have no gigs to run to. I'll look after you, _Mäuschen._ "

"Mina, thanks." The girl smiled unexpectedly. "If you hadn't been there, I'd be back in hospital, struggling to stay alive like-," she forced herself to continue, "Like last time."

The Kommissar narrowed her gaze. "There was a last time…" She shook her head sorrowfully. " _Kleine Maus,_ I will make sure there is no next time." She gently embraced the DJ and within seconds she was cradling her as her body shook with suppressed sobbing.

"Feisty mouse, let it out. Let it all out, cry until you can't cry any more…" Mina murmured. She cried and buried her face into Mina's shoulder. It was a long time before Beca's breathing evened out and she started to relax. The Kommissar stood up, rummaging in her suitcase for something. She tossed a black shirt to Beca, who gingerly put it on. "Your legs are okay, Beca?"

"Yeah. Usually my arms get the worst of them but I think I'll be okay."

"Okay _Mäuschen_. Sleep it off." She turned to leave the room but was stopped by a soft, "wait…"

She turned around. Beca fiddled sheepishly with the bedding. "It's just… I don't feel safe tonight."

"What would you like me to do?" Mina asked, walking back towards Beca kindly. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

"Yes, that would be nice." Beca felt her cheeks flush red as she asked the Kommissar to help her into bed.

"Do not worry, _Mäuschen_. I'm not embarrassed, and neither should you be." She gently placed the girl into bed, removing her curve-hugging shirt with a practised ease, slipping into a similar shirt to the DJ. She simply took off her trousers and slid into the bed in the t-shirt and her underwear. It was only then that she became painfully aware of how cold the brunette was. Without thinking, she pulled her closer to her body, warming her back. Beca tensed for a second, then relaxed, enjoying the embrace.

It didn't take long for Beca to fall asleep, the warm spooning of Mina helping to relax her more than she had ever thought possible. The Kommissar smiled, kissing Beca's cheek gently. She couldn't help the rush of emotion that she felt at the sight of her, lying peacefully in her bed.

"Sleep well, _Mäuschen_."

* * *

 **A.N. This was intended to be an oneshot but now it's done I feel I could run it in many directions… Let me know if you want to see more :)**

 **~ Becommissar**


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N. I highly recommend you listen to the lullaby when Mina sings it. Seriously, it's one of my favourite songs and I think it shows a different side of the Kommissar. I recommend the version on diegrosseflut's YouTube (titled Patrick Sperber - WEISST DU WIEVIEL STERNLEIN STEHEN) as that's what I was listening to when I thought of how Mina would interpret this song, except slightly higher, I suppose.**

* * *

Beca woke up feeling relaxed for the first time in months. She sank deeper into the bed, breathing in the deep scent… That wasn't right. That didn't smell like her bedding. That smelt like cinnamon and _oh shit_. She turned over and saw Mina sleeping in her bed. She sat up, stretching. The blonde didn't stir. She supposed the Kommissar was not a morning person. Neither was she usually. She walked into the kitchenette, eyes bleary. There was a note addressed to her on the front of the mini fridge.

The note read, "Think we didn't know she took you home? Fool." She dropped it with shaking hands, fumbling to comprehend the words written there. She looked at the note again and saw it had bloody fingerprints on it. Those fingerprints came from her. Her hands were covered in blood. She ran into the bedroom, her heart plummeting into her stomach. The sticky red substance was everywhere. The majority of it was in the bed, once she pulled the covers back.

She ran over to Mina's side, tapping her cheek. Mina lay unmoving, her expression terrified. She cradled the woman's head in her hands, sobbing. "Oh my god, no!" she screamed.

* * *

Beca shot bolt upright in the bed, sweating and trembling. The light switched on and immediately Mina was by her side. "Beca? What happened?" She found Beca's hand and held onto it tightly. "What was it? A nightmare?"

Beca buried her head in the woman's shoulder, trembling more than she had ever in her life. She nodded, saying, "I get them often… I didn't mean to wake you. I thought you'd been killed…" She fell into hysteria, clawing at the blonde's shirt, keeping her in a crushing hug.

Mina drew the covers around them both, reassuringly stroking the girl's hair. When the tiny singer seemed to be calming down, she glanced at the clock. 3:58 AM. She looked back at Beca, whose breath had regulated and her tears had stopped running.

Beca smiled slightly at the woman's worry for her, before gently leaning up and kissing Mina's cheek. "Sorry, I, uh… I didn't…"

"Little mouse, it's all right. Go back to sleep." She lay down again and Beca followed suit not long after.

Mina began softly singing a German lullaby and Beca felt her heart melt. This girl was a talented singer in English, but in her native tongue she was extraordinary.

" _Weißt du, wieviel Sternlein stehen_

 _an dem blauen Himmelszelt?_

 _Weißt du, wieviel Wolken gehen_

 _weithin über alle Welt?_

 _Gott der Herr hat sie gezählet,_

 _daß ihm auch nicht eines fehlet_

 _an der ganzen großen Zahl,_

 _an der ganzen großen Zahl._ "

Mina turned to look at the younger brunette, and was happy to see her smiling. She continued singing, partly for Beca and partly for herself. The song was one of her favourites, from a time when life was more innocent. She had never been religious but there was something comforting about the tune that stuck with her, through thick and thin.

Beca, for her part, was simply lost in the beauty of the melody and the words. She didn't mind that she didn't know what Mina was singing about, she could be singing about the price of fish in Venezuela and she wouldn't have cared, so long as she kept singing. Eventually the song had to end, but Beca hoped to be asleep by that time.

" _Weißt du, wieviel Kinder frühe_

 _Stehn aus ihren Bettchen auf,_

 _Dass sie ohne Sorg' und Mühe_

 _Fröhlich sind im Tageslauf?_

 _Gott im Himmel hat an allen_

 _Seine Lust, sein Wohlgefallen,_

 _Kennt auch dich und hat dich lieb,_

 _Kennt auch dich und hat dich lieb._ "

The song ended in a gentle note that carried through the room before gently fading away. One of the reasons Mina chose this hotel was that the acoustics in the rooms was second to none, well, maybe not the ones that were way beyond most people's budgets.

It was only as she was drifting off to sleep that she realised the tiny singer had turned around to hug Mina's chest, curling up so that her head rested just below her own.

* * *

The rest of the night was uneventful and when Mina next awoke, it was to the sound of birdsong. She smiled, birds had always been relaxing to her and now was no exception. She opened her eyes and was greeted with the brunette staring at her face. "Like what you see, _Mäuschen_?"

"Yeah, I mean you're like a goddess, wait-," Beca mumbled, rapidly flushing scarlet.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you _,_ " she said quickly, "Early in the morning I tend to speak before thinking. It takes all my energies to stay awake, ja?" She chuckled, sitting up and stretching.

Beca went to follow suit, but Mina made her lie down again. "Bedrest for the little mouse, I think. I'll call for room service. What do you like?"

"Something plain. Anything vaguely interesting and I think I might chunder."

"I never understood that term. Porridge sound all right? It's quite plain and hot, something I think you'll really like. I believe an equivalent is oatmeal."

Beca nodded, trusting her judgement. As the Kommissar went to order from the hotel, Beca picked up her phone and skim-read the messages. She saw seventeen messages from Chloe, varying in concern. There was one each from Fat Amy, Cynthia Rose and Emily, all asking if she was okay. Not exactly feeling in the mood to answer the texts, she left them as they were until Chloe's face flashed up on her phone. She thought for a while before sliding to answer.

"Goddamnit," Chloe murmured. "I still can't get a hold of her." Chloe evidently thought she was through to voicemail. "Becs, if you get this, please please pick up the phone. We're all really worried about you."

"Chlo," Beca murmured.

"What? Beca, are you there?"

"Hey Chlo," she repeated.

"Oh my god where the hell are you? Are you okay? Do you need an ambulance?"

"No, Chloe, I'm okay. I'll be back in about a week. I can't do any more of the tour. Doctor says I've cracked a rib."

"Oh god Beca… Well, I'll tell the guys you've gone to see your grandma who isn't well and you just forgot to tell us, kay?"

"Thanks Chlo. You're the best. I'll let you know when I'm coming home."

"Okay Becs. Phone me tonight if you can?"

"That's a promise. Bye."

"Bye."

Beca put the phone down just as Mina returned to the bedroom. "Good to see that your friends do care," she said as she flopped down next to Beca. "Room service in five minutes. How do you feel?"

Beca groaned. "Terrible. I feel like I was kicked by an ox. And a cow. And a horse. And a sheep. And a- did I tell you your lips are perfect?" She was staring up to Mina's face with a sleepy smile.

"I believe you did once, _Mäuschen_ ," she replied. "Remember the Riff Off?"

Beca blushed. "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to say that- Well, maybe I did- Oh I'm really just making this worse aren't I?" she stuttered, her face pink with embarrassment.

Mina laughed. "Ah, it is good to hear your voice, _Maus_." There was a knock at the door. Mina got up.

"Breakfast is served, Beca."

* * *

 **A.N. I was absolutely amazed at the level of feedback so I'm going to make this a multichapter fic. Heh, I guess I always knew it would happen but whether I would post it would be another question. I'm open to prompts or suggestions so PM me if you've got an idea you want me to run with.**

 **~ Becommissar**


	3. Chapter 3

Beca was again texting Chloe from the hotel room. Mina was sitting on the sofa with her laptop, trawling the Twitter hashtag #DSMinConcert whilst answering questions from the lucky few fans. "Beca," she called absent-mindedly. In seconds, Beca was beside her, snuggling into her side.

"What's up?"

"We need to talk about what's going on." Mina steeled herself for a hard time. Beca was very quiet, lost in thought.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Beca mumbled, not looking Mina in the eye. "I hardly know you."

"That's true," the Kommissar said patiently, "but I want to help you. I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened."

"You know what happened, you saw it! You contributed to it!" Beca felt her suppressed rage at the men who were ruining her life spill out of control. "You punched me in the chest and **you** cracked my rib! I felt it! You sick bastard!"

"This is going out of control-,"

"No! They call you Kommissar for a reason! Because you're cruel hearted and you don't give a shit about anyone, but pretend to! You're a fraud!"

"Please don't take that tone with me," she said quietly.

"You're completely crazy! You start by being all snappy and rude to me before the Worlds, then suddenly we're okay again 'cause _we're not competitors any more_ , then you're back to cruel Kommissar again and hitting me like mad and then you're all nice again! Who the hell are you?!"

Beca got up and started pacing, waving her arms around angrily. "I'm sick of the fucking facades, Mina. Who the fuck are you, and why are you being so fucked up? No, wait, I don't want to hear it," she paused, thinking for a second.

"Beca, I did what I had to." Mina interjected softly, trying to get the brunette to see her side.

"You 'did what you had to'? So you _had_ to treat me badly before the Worlds and you _had_ to break my ribs? Mina, Kommissar, whoever the hell is in there, you're messed up dude. You're really messed up. You're a psycho."

"Beca, please, hear me out," Mina pleaded, trying not to cry.

"I don't want to hear your excuses, you little shitbag. You're a double-faced bitch and I never want to see your flawless skin again. FUCK! See, this is what you've done," she said, barely off from a shout. "You've made me go crazy, **crazy I tell you!** "

She screamed in frustration, hands balled into fists. "You are trouble," she said through gritted teeth, "and I hope you know you'll never find yourself a guy who will sink low enough to be with you. I am gone. You're disgusting."

She stormed out of the hotel room, slamming the door. Mina had no energy to chase after her. She sat on the bed, suppressing tears. Her last words rung in her ears. " _You're disgusting,_ " " _You're disgusting,_ " " _You're disgusting,_ " over and over again. Was she really disgusting? Was she worthless? She had felt full with life when Beca had been there, but she had attributed that to enjoying caring for people. She was worthless of Beca's attention. Beca meant something to her, but as what? A friend? She was more than that for sure. A best friend? She didn't really feel like she knew the brunette well enough to call her that.

That only left one. Girlfriend?

* * *

Beca walked with no real sense of direction for hours, wandering in the foreign town and avoiding eye contact with anyone. Eventually she found herself in a completely unknown part of town which she had never seen before. She suddenly felt very alone. Digging in her pocket for her phone, she found only lint and some leftover change from drinks a while ago. She looked for a phone box, walking in unknown directions, towards streets she had never seen before, until she finally spotted one.

She entered the small booth and inserted her coins before dialling Chloe's number. She picked up quickly. "Hello, Chloe Beale speaking."

"Hey Chloe, its Beca. I've lost my phone and I'm also kind of very very lost in… wherever the hell I am. I don't know what to do, I can't speak Danish either."

"Beca, how the hell do you do these things?" Chloe mused to herself. "All right, any landmarks you can see?" She relayed the things she could see and before long Chloe discovered where she was.

"I'll come get you. Stay in the phone booth. Unless someone wants to use it. Then, I guess, get out."

Beca made a kiss sound down the phone. "You're my absolute best friend Chloe. Thanks for covering for me too."

"Don't worry about it. I'll be there as soon as I can."

* * *

Chloe drove up not long after that. Beca gratefully hopped into the car and Chloe drove away. Keeping her eyes on the road and her voice level, she casually asked why Beca had ended up in such a random part of Copenhagen. Beca didn't answer and Chloe sensed the walls going up around her. "It's okay, Beca," she said, laying a hand on Beca's thigh. "Whatever happened, I know you're not telling me for a good reason. Just, try not to bottle it up too long. I'm here for you."

"Okay Chloe," Beca said distantly, and Chloe had a feeling she hadn't been listening to anything she had said.

They drove in silence for a while, Beca staring out the window with a muted expression. The vehicles rolling past seemed to be of great disinterest to her as she appeared to be looking at nothing. She looked incredibly sober about something which was causing her great inner turmoil.

Chloe suddenly drove into a parking space and looked questioningly at Beca. "Something's up, Beca and I hate to see my best friend like this. Please, what's going on?"

Beca didn't say anything for a while. "I hate this vulnerability," she finally murmured. Chloe frowned for a while before reaching for Beca's arm. "Hey, Becs," she whispered, looking into her best friends eyes. "I love you and I will always love you. I know our thing didn't work out in the end but I will always be here for you, no matter what. I'm never going to leave you on your own and I'm going to help you."

Beca thought for a few seconds as a tear rolled down her cheek. Chloe smoothed it away with her thumb. She kissed her once-girlfriend on the cheek and embraced her strongly. "Hey, I know a great place which serves an even greater cuppa not too far from here. Do you want to go?"

Beca nodded mutely, holding her best friend's hand like it was the only thing keeping her alive. And in that moment, it really seemed to be.

* * *

 **A.N. Okay, so I'm sorry this is a shorter chapter, my D of E expedition walk was this weekend and I've been awfully busy. A little bit of Ex BeChloe going on (one of my other ships) but I really like Chloe in the role of supportive friend. Please leave a review, they seriously encourage me to keep writing (nothing worse than writing something and the sound of crickets chirping being the only reply…)**

 **~Becommissar**


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N. I have a bit of some different languages in this chapter, but I don't speak the languages in question so I'm not going to write them in the true language, sorry. I don't trust Google Translate and I hate reading things when I know the language that just sound silly. It'll hopefully be quite obvious if you read all the little words in the Kommissar sections (particularly around the dialogue) as to what language we're playing with. Enjoy Chapter 4!**

 _Girlfriend?_ The word echoed in her mind over and over. In her native, they could simplify things by simply stating _Freundin_ , which could mean friend or girlfriend. But was it love? She was affectionate to the girl, certainly, but she was often affectionate to people she knew well. _But you don't know her well,_ a voice in her head reminded her. _You are attracted to her, and she sees you for who you are. You're disgusting._

She groaned, flopping onto the bed and finally letting herself cry.

It's going to be a long day, she thought miserably.

* * *

Beca wrapped cold hands around a steaming cup of coffee. Chloe's worried expression followed her every move. She knew from experience that Chloe would wait for her to talk first about her problems. She didn't want to, but the sensation of her friend's hand on her back was more comforting than anything else she knew. Before she could stop to think, the story came tumbling out, punctuated with tears and half-shouted sobs.

Chloe massaged her back softly, whispering softly in her ear reassuringly until Beca was clutching her friend and no longer crying, only sniffling. She smiled sadly back at Beca, holding back her own tears. As much as she missed Beca, she hated to see her sad. Beca took a shaky sip of her coffee, the heat travelling down her throat satisfyingly and warming her core.

A gentle kiss on the cheek drew her back to the present. Chloe had always been a very touchy-feely person and post-relationship was no exception. She looked back to her ex-girlfriend and smiled through tear-streaked eyes. Chloe struggled to find the right words to comfort Beca.

"You love her."

It had almost been unintentional, Chloe let the words fall out of her mouth before she could stop to think whether it was a good idea. She worriedly glanced at Beca to see whether her guess had been right. Beca had no response, sitting drinking her beverage.

"Maybe I do," she finally said. "Maybe I do love her. But there's no chance she loves me. Pieter, remember?"

Chloe sighed, clenching the bridge of her nose. Beca was in love with a woman who could never love her back. "Okay, so Pieter. She's dating him, I suppose?"

"Yeah. She's been dating him months. Chlo, can I bunk with you for a bit? I've got nowhere to go and no money."

Chloe immediately nodded. "Absolutely. I've got my spare bedroom just redone and the bed can be made. Becs, we'll figure it out, okay? I promise. I can lend you some money." She added in a low whisper, leaning closer, "How much this month?"

Beca mumbled something, tears spilling from her eyes. Chloe asked her to repeat herself. "Six hundred fifty eight and twenty three cents," she half-whispered, her voice hoarse and throaty.

"Shit."

Listening to Chloe's indignant voice made her feel slightly better and she hugged her strongly.

"Chlo, how am I gonna keep going? I'm in love with a woman who can't love me back, I've got crazy blackmail whistling around my head and if it weren't for you and her-," she sobbed, "I'd be dead or homeless. Chloe, what do I do?!"

Chloe thought for a while, a tear finally escaping her eye. "I don't know."

* * *

The Kommissar had been crying for several hours, her throat sore and her hands shaking. When she finally stopped, she went and made a cup of exceptionally sweet tea which she drank to soothe her throat. Eventually, she picked up her phone. Dialling Pieter's number, she took a deep breath.

Finally, he picked up. "Hello, this is Pieter Krämer."

"Pieter," Mina said, switching to Mandarin, "we need to talk."

"Kommissar?" Pieter's tone was serious. He too began talking in Mandarin. "What's wrong?" The Kommissar never used Mandarin unless it was something she did not want overheard. It was one of the few languages the two of them knew that the rest of DSM did not. She clearly did not want to take chances with the information he was going to receive.

"Where are you?"

"Down the road from the hotel. I can be at your room in about five minutes. Can it wait that long?" He began walking back towards the hotel as she answered.

"I don't know."

Pieter increased his pace and nearly ran, taking the steps up to the hotel three at a time. When he finally got to the Kommissar's door, she opened it, face streaked with tears. She threw herself into his arms, not saying anything. He softly closed the door and took her over to the small sofa. He sat down and she lay next to him, resting her head on his lap.

"So," he said awkwardly making the transition to speaking English again, threading his hands through his friend's hair, "what was so bad you had to speak in Mandarin and I needed to take the stairs three at a time?" His words were jovial, but his inflection and tone insinuated a deep concern running through his mind.

"I've been a despicable person, Pieter," she whispered sadly, holding his hand tightly.

"Did you take your medicine?" he asked her quietly.

"Yes," she replied, not looking him in the eye.

"We've been friends too long, Kommi. Why haven't you taken your medicine? You need that, especially on tour when you can't see your therapist. _Liebchen_ , tell me why."

"…I ran out." Her voice was low and monotonous and Pieter instantly knew what it meant.

"Kommi," he said soothingly, "It's a bad day?" Dreading the reply, he waited, keeping his face as flat as he could.

"… It's a very very bad day, Pieter."

* * *

Chloe had taken Beca back to the hotel in her car, absently holding her hand the whole way. They were flying back to America tomorrow, but neither wanted to return. To return meant they would very rarely see each other again once Beca was set up with some money. They had both graduated from Barden and weren't Bellas any longer. There was nothing to keep them together. Beca was supposed to be moving to LA, and Chloe couldn't be more concerned over her tiny ex.

Beca had spoken very little, even by nature she usually had at least _something_ to say about Chloe's current radio choice, but the small brunette simply stared out of the window; silent tears streaking down her face not going unnoticed by Chloe. For once in her life she felt useless to help her best friend and confidant. She hated it as much as she hated cruelty.

She dragged Beca into her hotel room, sitting her down on the bed whilst she bustled around making herself a cup of tea and a mug of hot chocolate with a shot of espresso just like Beca liked it. She brought them back to the bed and they sipped in silence. The beverages they had just consumed were apparently not enough for either of them as the much needed caffeine coursed through their systems.

Beca was completely out of it, and Chloe took this opportunity to gently roll her friend's sleeves up. Long red lines betrayed Beca's emotional state better than words ever could. She had to choke back tears, forcing herself to inspect them to make sure they were not infected or septic. Satisfied that at least Beca was taking care of her mistakes, she carefully rolled the sleeves back over Beca's secret. Beca looked Chloe in the eye, shame written across her face.

"I didn't mean to, Chlo, I didn't…" she mumbled sadly.

"Becs," Chloe whispered back, tucking a stray hair behind her friend's ear. "You need to see someone. Someone who can help you. I can get you someone at a better rate that you could afford," she added hopefully.

"It's no use, Chlo. It's not worth it and even at a discounted rate I couldn't afford it."

"I won't let you be like this," Chloe said, leaning her head in to rest their foreheads together. "I'm going to fight your corner. There's gotta be someone out there who can help my best friend. I'm going to find them Becs. We're going to get you better. I don't want to see you hurt any more. Please, please say yes?"

The painful hope in her eyes forced Beca to nod stiffly. Chloe enveloped her in a big hug. "Oh Becs," she mumbled through the brunette's hair. "I'm not letting you go."

* * *

 **So that's Chapter 4! Please leave a review for me :) I'd really like to know what you want to see; Pieter and Chloe hooking up? Maybe Kommissar being angsty some more? Perhaps even a bit of BeChloe? Let me know, I have an idea of where I want to go with this but I think it needs a bit more before I get to that ;)**

 **See you next chapter!**

 **~Becommissar**


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N. There was some confusion by some readers regarding the past chapters and I apologise for that. The way I write when there are two characters who aren't in the same place can be kinda… disjointed (I need to improve on them basically). In essence, every time there is a break in the page the perspective switches. Usually it starts with Beca's perspective but there can be a few when the perspective is Kommissar's. It should become obvious after a few lines where you are and whose perspective it is… Sorry. I will probably go back and review the chapters cause it's so easy to make it vague because I know the story in infinite detail xD**

 **Also the majority of this section is text based, in the sense of SMS. So bear in mind, the bolded sections in this particular chapter are texts. It's hard to do these sometimes :)**

 **On with the story!**

* * *

Beca's phone dinged its cheerful tune every time she got a text. She glanced at the sender absently before throwing it over to her bag. It was from the Kommissar, as all the past twenty three or so had been. She didn't even bother looking at the text. It had been three weeks since they had returned from the Worlds at Copenhagen, three weeks since she had become riled at the most gorgeous woman in the world for no reason. She was stressed out, but also lovesick and _oh god_ … she couldn't cope any more.

Chloe walked in, worry etched over her face. Shakily, she offered Beca a tiny plate of food. Beca looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry Chlo…"

Chloe softly sat down beside her. "You haven't eaten anything in three days. Please, Beca," she begged, proffering the simple sandwich again. "You have to eat. I need you to get better. Talk to me Beca!" She gently shook her friend, who didn't respond. Beca sighed, pushing Chloe away.

"I'm really sorry Chlo," she repeated, "but I just don't know. I can't live like this any longer."

"You're right about that," Chloe said sharply, regretting her tone almost instantly. "You won't be able to live much longer if you don't eat," she said, softening her tone. "Come on, Becs, just a tiny mouthful?"

Beca dutifully took the sandwich and raised it to her mouth. Taking a bite, she swallowed it almost whole, placing the sandwich back onto the plate with a finality that suggested Chloe wouldn't get any more into her. She forced her face into an optimistic smile.

"There you go! Doesn't that feel better?"

Beca shook her head, leaning over to rest her head on Chloe's shoulder. "Help me, Chloe," she said hollowly.

"I'm trying, baby. Come on, curl up in bed again. Do you want to make a mix with me?"

"No thanks Chloe."

Chloe frowned. She had never known the brunette refuse to make a mix with her, let alone do it without some sort of snarky jibe at her poor mixing skills. "Where's my sassy Beca gone?" Chloe mused quietly. "Where's the Bella I knew?"

She started whisper-singing a song, and found Beca quietly joined in after a while.

"I'm bulletproof,  
Nothing to lose  
Fire away, fire away,  
Ricochet, take your aim,

Fire away, fire away.  
You shoot me down, but I won't fall,  
I am titanium…"

* * *

 **You: hey beca**

 **You: beca where are you?**

 **You: beca talk to me**

 **You: I'm sorry if I offended you**

 **You: please talk to me**

 **You: its been a week since we argued**

 **You: can we talk?**

 **You: beca im begging you**

 **You: talk to me**

 **You: I really miss you**

 **You: I need you**

 **You: beca im sorry.**

Kommissar regarded her messages to Beca sadly, struggling to see through the tears. What had she done so wrong? She texted Pieter briefly, trying to dive into something different. He came over quite quickly and they played some computer games for a while before getting to work with some new choreographies, but Mina's heart wasn't in it.

Pieter sensed something was wrong but he didn't comment. When he had the chance he glanced at her phone and noted down the numbers of the unfamiliar people. He was going to find out who the Kommissar was so upset about. He set about texting all the male-sounding names first to ensure it really was who he suspected it to be.

 **You: Hallo, wer ist das?**

+1 (202) 867-5309: Uh, sorry dude wrong number.

You: Oh, my apologies. What might your name be?

 **+1 (202) 867-5309: My name is Chloe but this isn't my phone.**

 **You: Oh, hi there Chloe. Look, im trying to help my friend. She's depressed as all hell and I'm trying to figure out what's going on. She was very upset when we were in Copenhagen at a singing festival and she's just weird and spaced out right now. I want to know if any of her contacts know anything about this.**

 **+1 (202) 867-5309: Well this is weird.**

 **You: Why?**

 **+1 (202) 867-5309: My best friend (this is her phone) basically has this problem. Her name is Beca.**

 **You: Beca Mitchell?**

 **+1 (202) 867-5309: oh fuck who the hell are you**

 **You: Calm down, may I have your number. It's personal. I'm Pieter Kramer. Y'know from DSM? I believe we might have met at the Worlds. I know you, you're ginger, brilliant blue eyes.**

 **+1 (202) 867-5309: Fine it's +1 (202) 320-8503 but this had better be the most important piece of information I will ever receive in my whole life. Anyone could say they're Pieter dude.**

Pieter grinned. Thank god for understanding friends. If this was the girl he thought it was, he was damn lucky to find someone who could help him. He punched her number in.

 **You: Testing testing one two three**

 **+1 (202) 320-8503: Ha ha ha. What's wrong Pieter Kramer?**

 **You: I think it's related to your friend Beca Mitchell. Lemme add your name to my phone one sec.**

 **Chloe: Mkay, what's up with Beca that you know about?**

 **You: Well it's more about Kommi.**

 **Chloe: Kommi?**

 **You: Oh, my pet name for the Kommissar. Anyway… Your best friend had a horrendous argument with Kommissar, my** _ **Freundin**_ **, and she is literally three steps and a lockpick away from jumping off a building. I think she needs Beca.**

 **Chloe: oh my god. What can I do?**

 **You: Getting your ass on a plane over here would work well. Coffee or tea kinda girl? I'll have something ready for you when you get here. Tell Beca whatever you have to to make her come. This is my last chance. I can't lose my best friend.**

 **Chloe: Wait what? I thought you were dating?!**

 **You: well, not that you'll tell anyone, but she's made me pretend to be her boyfriend, keeps the media off of us. She's a bit gay, you see.**

 **Chloe: omg**

 **You: Please don't take it like that.**

 **Chloe: no that's great I'll explain later**

 **Chloe: We are on our way.**

 **Chloe: Wait, how do we get to you?**

 **You: Well, I, uh, wanted to help her so either way I made a reservation for flights to America, round trip which I've just inverted. If I couldn't find her in her contacts I was going to fly to America and look for her.**

 **Chloe: Oh god that's so sweet. Btw I'm a coffee girl.**

 **You: I'll bear that in mind. Here's the details.**

 **Chloe: Thank god for German efficiency. I'll just switch the info then?**

 **You: Yes, that looks good. See you in, uh, eight hours?**

 **Chloe: Yes. I hope so.**


	6. Chapter 6

"Beca, please listen to me." Chloe had been pleading with the brunette for what seemed like an eternity, without getting a response. She had first tried to gain Beca's attention from one of her mixes to no avail so purely out of desperation she plucked the Beats off Beca's head to make the girl listen to her.

"Beca Mitchell," she said, putting on an offended but quiet tone. "You need to hear this. I need your help."

Beca glanced up, disinterested. "Shoot."

Chloe smiled softly, sitting down beside her friend, taking her hand. "Now, I don't want you to worry, but…" She held back on purpose to see if Beca was even listening. The girl squeezed the ginger's hand reassuringly.

"Chlo… It's something bad isn't it? I can handle it. Just say it."

Chloe sighed, an involuntary tear streaking down her face. Even unexpectedly so, as what she was going to say wasn't exactly the truth as it was spoken by God. "You remember the Kommissar?"

Beca tensed. In an unnaturally low voice, she whispered, "I _remember_? What's happened Chlo?" Suddenly the interest and concern in her voice had increased tenfold. She was almost begging Chloe for the news to be good. It was not.

"She's very unwell. Pieter phoned me in tears a couple of nights ago to ask me to bring you to see her. She's dying Becs. She wanted to see you, I don't know why."

Beca said nothing for a second. Countless tears streamed down her face but she didn't bother to wipe them away. Then:

"When are we leaving?"

Chloe smiled inwardly. If Beca had anything to do with it, the Kommissar would be safe. Whipping out her phone, she texted Pieter.

 **You: Done. We're just packing xx**

The kisses had been accidental, a habit worn in from texting Beca and the rest of the Bellas, but she felt her face flush with embarrassment at the thought of the rugged German receiving a text from a goofy American girl with kisses at the end. It was like she was some sort of fan… She was jolted out of her reverie by his response.

 **Pieter: Danke. I'll be at the airport to pick you up. I'll bring coffee :P Thank you for the kisses, I'm pinking!**

Smiling, she quickly replied,

 **You: Aww thank you! B will need it. She doesn't travel well.**

 **Pieter: Shall I add a shot of vodka for the colder weather?**

 **You: PIETER! :o I think we will suffice being abstinent for a week. Plus if I hold liquor as badly in Germany as I do in America that will not end well.**

 **Pieter: Even one shot?**

 **You: Pretty much. I haven't seen B pack so quickly in my life. I think there's something she regrets that she wants to fix.**

 **Pieter: I hope so, else they are both in trouble. See you soon.**

 **You: Bye.**

* * *

She glanced up to see Beca glaring impatiently at her. "Well, aren't we going then?" A strange fire burnt in her eyes. "I need to see her Chlo. She asked me to. I have to see her."

Chloe nodded, getting the keys to her car and filling the trunk with the bags. They drove to the airport in silence. Checking in had strangely never been easier, leaving an awkward silence drifting over them. Chloe unconsciously reached for Beca's hand and squeezed it tightly. Beca sighed slightly and squeezed softly in reply. She had become distant but now a sort of determination seemed to grip her like a vice and refuse to let her go.

It seemed like seconds before their plane was called and Beca practically dragged Chloe to the boarding gate. Seating themselves into their allocated chairs, Beca picked up the in-flight magazine and flipped through it, tapping impatiently. Chloe rested her hand gently on Beca's leg to make her stop tapping. She pulled her MP3 player from her pocket and unwound the headphones, offering it to Beca.

She smiled, slipping the little white nubs into her ears, losing herself in Chloe's impeccable music taste and excellent quality earplugs. For such small and cheap looking plastic items, the sound was impressive. The bass was nowhere near the quality of her Beats, but they were not made for that so she had very little to complain about.

Chloe visibly relaxed seeing her friend's eyes flutter closed and a small smile play across her lips. When the flight attendant approached them to ask if they needed anything, she quickly switched into sign language. The air hostess strugglingly switched to basic wording and tried to convey that they were leaving and that all technological devices needed to be turned off. Chloe nodded, resorting to scribbling on a piece of paper:

"My friend is unwell. The music helps her relax. Is it okay for her to keep it on? The MP3 can't use the internet."

The hostess nodded after a brief conference with the captain. She thanked the lady before returning to gaze protectively over the small DJ. She felt tired and heavy and before she could stop herself her eyelids were drifting closed and the world was fading into the background of her life…

* * *

 **A.N. I am so so so sorry for the amount of time this chapter has taken me to write! It's remarkably short, even by my standards, but it's a filler chapter of sorts. I've had a lot of things going on and I've had very little time to myself. I'm making excuses here but hopefully next chapter will be more interesting!**

 **~Becommissar**


	7. Chapter 7

When Chloe awoke, it was to the gentle but frantic shakes of Beca's hand on her arm, quietly nudging her towards wakefulness. "We're about to land," Beca whispered to Chloe, squeezing her arm. "I thought it might be better if you were awake for it."

Chloe smiled ruefully. Beca was known for squealing loudly or screaming upon the landing of a plane; not through excitement like some people clap when the plane lands, but through sheer terror. Hence, the Bellas frequently travelled by bus. Not everyone was comfortable with Beca's outbursts, Fat Amy being particularly affected. Therefore, she immediately volunteered herself as designated driver for any journeys, saving the other Bellas the trouble.

Dragging herself to the present, she checks up on Beca. She seems to have not slept on the eight hour flight, too scared to even shut her eyes. Despite the dimmed lights Chloe could see very clearly and it didn't take a genius to see Beca was utterly terrified. "Chlo…" she whined, as the plane began to lurch earthward. She pawed the chair with her hand, scraping the plush of the fabric backwards and forwards as she did. Chloe could only offer her hand to the DJ and try to take her mind off it. She took it and they sat in silence for a while, Beca's discomfort becoming increasingly apparent.

"Hey, Becs," Chloe murmured.

"Yeah?" Beca turned to look at Chloe, trying very hard to keep her voice level.

"How come you're fine with take-off but not with landing in a plane? Like, I'd be more scared taking off in a plane, 'cause it's all full of fuel and whatever-,"

"Chlo," Beca said warningly but sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know. There's just something scary about letting gravity pull an incredibly heavy piece of metal earthwards and _hoping_ they've used the brakes and _hoping_ nothing is broken or malfunctioning else it's all over." She shuddered. "I just don't like it."

"I get that," Chloe said reassuringly, resting her head on Beca's shoulder. "You know what? I used to be terrified of baking. No, really," she added, noticing the wide smile on Beca's face that verged on laughter. "I was always scared that the oven would somehow grab me and burn my arms really badly. It happened to my best friend. Well, I mean, she got a crescent scar on her wrist and the scream… It happened in home ec."

Beca allowed the smile to retreat. "I'm sorry, I hope she's okay now. I just couldn't imagine the domestic goddess being unable to touch an oven. Just… Those brownies you make, with the crème eggs in them? Yeah, I can't imagine not having them."

"Oh, she's fine," Chloe replied airily, "We used to joke about it; she looked like she'd been bitten by someone. Just the right shape for a vampire."

Beca laughed. "Yeah... Oh god, it sounds like some sort of crappy television show premise. You could call it, hmm, the Curse of the Home Economics Classroom."

"Got a good ring to it there, Mitchell. Better go tell HBO before I do. Oh, would you look at that, it's time to get off."

Beca looked up, distracted. "Wait, what?"

Chloe grinned. "Thank god for that old story. Remind me to thank Anna for her Vampiric Bite when we get to the next place with Wi-Fi."

"Thanks Chlo." Beca's voice was soft, as if she had suddenly realised why they were on the plane in the first place. "When can I see the Kommissar? How is she?"

"I don't know, Becs. Pieter says she's okay. Are you sure you can handle this?"

Beca thought for a while, before looking her best friend directly in the eye. "I'm sure."

* * *

The border controls were as efficient as ever and Beca and Chloe were soon out in the Arrival's lounge, scanning the room for Pieter. Of course, Pieter was not difficult to find. He was dressed in a loose fitting blue t-shirt with an unknown German logo on it; plain cream trousers; a leather belt and warm brown, well used brogues. He broke out into a wide smile when he saw them, opting to stride towards the figures carrying two steaming cups of coffee.

"Ah, Chloe! It is good to see you again! You also Beca!" Pieter exclaimed once they were within speaking distance. He swooped down to lightly peck her on the cheek and repeated the gesture to Beca. Chloe resisted the urge to stroke her cheek where he had kissed her. Instead, she smiled, grasping the offered coffee and taking a long pull. Feeling the caffeine course through her system, she smiled. "Hello Pieter. Coffee is beautiful as always."

"My pleasure," Pieter said with a smile. "But, I wish we could be here under better circumstances, ja?"

Beca's resolute expression spoke volumes. "How is she?"

"She is… She is okay." Pieter said sadly, shaking his head. "Hopefully with you around, she will improve."

Chloe smiled, as Pieter began interacting with Beca, slowly drawing the ex-Bella out of her shell. They began to walk, at the insistence of Beca who was feeling sleepier by the minute. He led them to his hatchback and placed their bags into the back. He did so with a care for the contents Chloe wouldn't have thought possible with the size of his hands. She voiced this opinion and he laughed cheerfully.

"Ah, but years of playing the violin can train you out of, undextrousness?"

Chloe laughed loudly out of shock. "Okay, what?! Two things; one, it's clumsiness and two, _you play the violin_?!"

"Yes, indeed, I play the violin. Not so well as Kommi does, but I can play it enough to pass the tests of the _Hochschule._ "

"Wait, in Munich? The H _ochschule_?"

"Ja, _die Hochschule für Musik und Theater München._ It was where I met Kommi. Her real name is a sworn secret, divulged only to those she really trusts. I've earnt some of it."

"Whoa. No wonder DSM are good."

"We work hard. Now, your Beca is close to falling asleep. I believe it is best for her to ride in the back and lie down. It is okay," he added to the DJ, "I will drive carefully. German efficiency and all similar things."

Beca dutifully slid into the back of the car and lay down. Chloe breathed a sigh of relief when Beca hummed appreciatively and closed her eyes. Pieter started the car and backed out of the parking space. There was silence for a while as he navigated the German streets, Chloe simply content to look out the window. Pieter glanced into his mirror.

"Beca is out for the number."

"Out for the count," Chloe automatically corrected. In spite of herself, she felt herself relax and smile. "I'm so worried about her. I lied to her, Pieter. _I lied_. She trusts me. I mean, it wasn't full on lying but it was a twist of the truth. How will she react?" She trembled in shame. Beca meant a lot to her, she didn't want to jeopardise that friendship.

Pieter thought for a while before hesitantly offering his hand to the shaking girl. She took it without a second thought. "If you ask me," he said at last, "she will be fine with it. I cannot really express the words. But as I know Kommi, she will help to fix things once she is fixed herself. I need Kommi better. You need Beca better. I will do anything for that. If she doesn't want to accept you lied to rescue both of them, then I will talk to her. I will take the blame. You did the right thing."

Chloe unexpectedly felt her eyes fill with tears at the kind words of the German next to her. She knew how difficult many people found it to express themselves in their native language, having excellent experience with the sleeping brunette behind her. But in a foreign language… it meant a lot to her that he had figured out how to express himself in any way to comfort her.

"Thank you Pieter. Y'know, you're not so bad," she said quietly. "I was worried your persona was the real you, but it really isn't. I'm glad. I like the real you."

"It is okay, I like you as well, Chloe." Pieter rubbed his thumb reassuringly on her hand, steering expertly with one hand. "I like you a lot." He turned to look at her at a red light. He looked as if he was thinking of saying something, but as he opened his mouth he seemed to think better and closed it again. She didn't bring it up, knowing the large German needed to come to terms with his thoughts before he could do anything about it.

It was a few more minutes travel in silence before Pieter stopped the car suddenly. Leaning out the window, he hollered, " _Wo ist das Auto stürzt ihr Idioten!_ " He followed his irate shout with a volley of curses. Returning to his seat, he sighed, turning to Chloe. "There's a marmalade for no reason," he grumbled.

Chloe lost it and dissolved into giggles. If the German's irritated pout hadn't gotten her to break out in a smile and if the hilariously incorrect wording wasn't as funny as it was, she might have been able to keep quiet. Yet she giggled, hastily stifling them as Beca mumbled in the back seat.

"What's the hold up, Pieter?" she asked simply, once she had stopped laughing.

"I have no idea." He hollered something in German to the car in front and received a worrying reply. "Someone's on the roof," he translated for Chloe. "They're going to jump."

Chloe nudged Beca awake gently, allowing the brunette time to adjust. "Hey Becs, we're stopping for a bit. The only road to Pieter's apartment is closed for a bit so we just gotta sit tight I guess."

Beca yawned, stretching. "Can we walk?"

Chloe looked to Pieter questioningly. He nodded hesitantly, getting out of the car. Instantly he sat back down. In a strained voice, he got out, "I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Pieter?" Beca sat up. "What is it?"

"Chloe." Pieter ignored Beca. "We have to wait here."

"Hey, I think I'm missing something here," Beca said, becoming alarmed. "What is it, I can take it."

"Hmm," Chloe said, blanking Beca as well. "How long is it going to be?"

"I suspect about three hours."

"Jeez, dudes! Fine, that's it. I'm getting out. If you're gonna ignore me…" She swung the door open and stepped out, straining to see what the problem was. At the top of a building stood a tall figure. They were too far away to see clearly, but the platinum-blonde hair was unmistakeable. Without even thinking, Beca began to run.


	8. Chapter 8

Quite a crowd had gathered nervously at the bottom of the building that the Kommissar was desperately stood at the top of. She whipped around to see a police officer wheedling to her in German. She snapped a retort back at him, her effect wasted only by the shake in her voice as she repeatedly told him, no I'm not telling you who I am and there's no point in trying to stop me because I haven't got anything to live for.

The officer walked towards her and as a result she stepped back a tiny bit. She warned him not to come any closer. He accepted his fate, stepping back with his hands raised. She glanced to the ground below, watching the people milling around. She caught a glimpse of something very different to the standing and wandering around of the majority of the folk down there. A brunette, sprinting towards the building.

She blinked, and it was gone. She was imagining her tiny mouse, the tiny mouse who did not care for her. She stepped a little closer to the edge, feeling the space where wall met air beneath her canvas shoes. She suddenly felt freer, knowing it was there. The officer was talking to her again, but she was not listening.

The wind whistling through the air allowed her to pretend she could not hear him. Her hair whipped into her eyes and she flicked it away with her tears. She inched closer to the edge, and the officer became a little more desperate. A loud noise distracted him. What are you doing here, he asked. Civilians need to be down there.

I have to see this woman, the person replied. The Kommissar's ears pricked at the voice, although in her numbed state she could not tell who it was. Please, the person begged again, let me try.

The officer said nothing, but from the reaction of the person, it seemed to be a positive. The person cleared their throat. "Mina?" A feminine voice trembled. Only six people knew her by that name and of those who were still alive, only one was a woman.

She span around, nearly losing her balance in shock. It could not be. Stop lying to me, she wanted to scream. Please, you cannot be here, how are you here. But she seemed to be. "Beca?" The tall woman's voice came out hoarse and honest, as she felt her knees weaken. "You cannot be real, you are a figment of my imagination."

I'm real, Beca assured her. "Touch me." She gingerly held out her hand to the Kommissar, giving her every chance to say no as she slowly walked towards her, coming to stand far enough away that Luisa felt safe, but close enough to touch her hand. It was warm, and the heart rate of the owner was through the roof. It was sweaty and small, trembling in the high winds. It was very very real.

She sat down on the side of the building, swinging her feet over the edge. "Please don't do this," she begged. "We can talk about it?"

The Kommissar paused, thinking, before slowly lowering herself to sit down on the side of the building, legs swinging in the breeze. "What are you doing here?" she asked plainly, a trace of a whimper evident in her voice.

"Pieter sent for me. Told Chloe you were sick. I had to come and see you," she whispered, trying not to cry. "God, I don't do emotions very well… Okay." She took a few ragged breaths to compose herself before continuing. "I was scared. I was scared you'd die before I could make things right. So I got myself here as fast as I could. We've only just arrived. If I had been later-," She stopped suppressing the tears and they flowed freely.

Mina unexpectedly found herself awkwardly shuffling over to place an arm over the sobbing woman. "Ssh, klein maus. I-," her voice wobbled. "I didn't know what I had done wrong. I thought you didn't care. And the messages… I sent you so many messages. I wanted to know what I had done, to prove I was not worthless. But, you never replied. I came to the conclusion you in fact meant what you said."

"I'm so sorry," Beca said, throwing an arm around Mina and hugging her tightly. She quickly waved off an officer who was going to approach and hastily mouthed that she had it relatively under control.

"I don't love Pieter," Mina went on. "I never have done." Beca inexplicably felt her heart lift and her pulse rate increase. "He is just my friend. He helps me, it suits us to be _lovers_. But it is a lie. We are not." She glanced to the girl she was sat next to, the adorable brunette DJ who was looking at her like she was the most important person in the world. The look forced her to continue.

"I have very bad depression. I cannot cope without medications of the stronger variety and counselling as much as I can. DSM touring makes that harder, of course, but I make do. But, when I was around you, I felt lighter than air. I felt good. You made me feel good. I intervened that day in the name of good grace, but in reality I couldn't bear the thought that someone was hurting you. But I just cannot live like this any more. Nein, I cannot do it."

She began to cry, shuffling forward until her thighs were hovering over the sky. "Mina, no…!" Beca cried, straddling the woman and forcing her to lie down so she couldn't fall off. She leant down towards the woman's face, tears falling unabashedly from her own eyes. "Please, Mina…"

"Beca," Mina said tiredly, her own tears leaking out and her resolve weakening. "I cannot do this, _liebling_." She moved the girl off her chest with ease and stood up. She turned to step off the building, turning back to look at the girl she adored.

"Wait, darling?! Oh my god, please, stop! Mina, I- I- I love you!"

The whole world seemed to grind to a halt. Mina's leg was hovering over space, just as she was about to begin falling. Beca ploughed into her, dragging her away from the edge. "Mina, please. I love you. I love you, let me go through this with you." She looked desperately into the woman's eyes, begging to see some sort of connection.

Mina looked foggily at her, distantly seeing her lips moving and her begging to say something. "Say it again," she said. Her voice sounded soft and distant, but she saw the girl gasp with relief and knew she had said the right thing.

"Mina, I love you. Ich liebe dich. Je t'aime. Ana behibek. Ik hou van jou." She was midway through Japanese when she was unexpectedly cut off by Mina's lips, their noses gently touching each other. It was gentle, questioning. Beca had no idea people could kiss so tenderly. With Jesse, pre breakup, it was always rough and sloppy, a seemingly unnecessary prerequisite to getting laid that needed to be done as soon as possible.

With Mina though, it was unreal. She laced her hands through Mina's hair, relieved that she was not going to jump. Mina's lips were soft; she was clearly wearing some kind of cinnamon lip balm. The smell of her sweat mingled with the fresh scent of her clothes and hair. Beca loved that smell. She could smell it all the time. She pulled away to look at the woman in front of her. She seemed dazed, eyes blown wide. She smiled weakly, looking her in the eye. "They're gonna want to check you're okay, Mina. Will you come with me?"

She nodded softly, and allowed herself to be led towards a paramedic. They checked her over and after multiple reassurances from Beca allowed her to go. She walked out of the door holding the Kommissar's hand, head held high, shielding her from the questioning looks and suspicious glances as much as her one and a half meters allowed her to.

"Mina?" Beca shyly asked when they got to the car.

"Yes, _Mäuschen_?"

She received a small kiss on the cheek. "Can we talk about it, when we get to your apartment? I mean, talk about _us_."

"Of course." She smiled and picked up the smaller girl. Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, she allowed a brief pout to form on the brunette's face before closing the distance and kissing her proper.

She became aware of people watching them, so she pulled away and placed Beca back onto shaky limbs. She opened the car door for the brunette, who clambered in and offered her a hand. She took it. It was going to be a long road, but it was a road she was willing to traverse.

Resting her head on Beca's shoulder, she saw the inquisitive glances of both Pieter and Chloe. "I- I think I will be all right," she managed to get out. A huge smile broke out on Pieter's face and he relayed his glee to Chloe. For one who does not know her well, that sentence would not hold much hope. But for Pieter, it was as good as liquid luck.

"Thank God. Kommi…" He gently placed a hand on her leg. "I knew she loved you. I always did. You denied it, but hey, that's what a beard is for, right? Itching in all the wrong places but looking damn fine whilst doing it?" He managed a weak smile.

"I think you're being quite obtuse regarding somebody here though," Mina said slyly, a glint of maliciousness in her eyes.

Beca quickly joined the dots and burst into laughter. "Oh, this is funny," she got out eventually. "Chlo, just kiss the dude already. The tension is killing me…" and again she dissolved into laughter. Pieter glanced from Chloe's eyes to her lips, his ears rapidly pinking. Chloe laughed good naturedly, and pulled him in for a kiss.

It turned out much more than that and eventually Beca had to cough loudly to remind them people were around and that also Chloe your bra lives on your body except in the shower or bedroom.

Chloe smiled at Beca. Beca smirked.

The Kommissar allowed tears to freely fall and Pieter pretended not to notice, having eyes only for the ginger opposite him. Beca simply allowed herself to enjoy the moment.

All was well.

 **A.N. Aww, its too perfect. Unfortunately for these guys it isn't quite over yet. So this was one of my first times writing both a) a suicide attempt and b) a kissing scene. Please leave a review if you enjoyed, and I will see you in the next chapter!**

 **~Becommissar**


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